Two Ms. Stones stood before Thomas, but it was clear the jewelry was meant for Belinda.

She covered her mouth, looking astonished. "They're for me? But why? I've never even met Mr. Quill. Why would he be so nice to me?"

"You are as graceful as you are intelligent, Ms. Stone. Your reputation has long spread throughout Jeriton," Thomas said sycophantically. "You may have never met Mr. Quill, but perhaps he's been quietly watching you this whole time. It would explain all the gifts."

Belinda blushed, feigning bashfulness. Deep inside, she was smug.

Just then, Thomas turned to Ivory. "Ms. Ivory, Mr. Quill wants to see you upstairs."

In truth, Ivory had known for a long time that the so-called legendary Mr. Quill was Wilson. The stoic heir had an aversion to women, was a retired member of the special forces, shared Wilson's surname, and also liked Belinda… They shared numerous overlapping characteristics, making it difficult to overlook.

Ivory didn't know what Wilson was up to, but she still followed Thomas upstairs. Trusting Wilson wholeheartedly had become second nature to her—she didn't have her guard up at all.

Only after entering the VIP private room upstairs did she realize Wilson was nowhere in sight. Instead, some trained hitmen appeared and tied her to a chair.

One of them retrieved a barbed whip. Ivory paled, instantly knowing what Wilson wanted.

The whip lashed down hard with a crack, making a bloody welt appear on her back. Agonizing pain tore through her, but she burst into laughter. Tears streamed down her face as she laughed.

How pathetic. How utterly pathetic.

Wilson wasn't worthy of her love at all!

Ivory gritted her teeth, refusing to beg for mercy. She endured all hundred lashes without making another sound. In the end, she collapsed to the floor, feeling worn out. Her consciousness turned hazy.

Before passing out, she heard someone laugh and ask Wilson, "Didn't you infiltrate the Stone family to find the girl who saved you in the mountains so you could repay her? How did you end up whipping someone?"

"Belinda Stone, the second daughter of the Stone family, is my savior," Wilson said. "This is the Stone family's eldest daughter. She's obnoxious and out of line—she needs to be knocked some sense into…"

Ivory didn't hear the rest of the conversation. She lost consciousness after losing too much blood.

While unconscious, she dreamed of an old memory. When she'd been in her teens, she'd once saved a heavily injured special forces soldier in the mountains.

He'd worn a special mask. She'd wanted to remove it, but he'd told her his identity was top-secret and that he would have to kill her if she were to see his face. And so, she'd left his mask where it was and had just treated his wounds.

Even until now, she had no idea who that soldier was and what he looked like. But after regaining consciousness, she had her answer. It turned out she'd saved Wilson all those years ago.

Still, there was no meaning in discovering the truth now. Her heart had died after the repeated abandonment and betrayal.

Coincidentally enough, Ivory woke up on the day she was meant to leave for Weston to marry Simon. She was covered in injuries, and she limped as she walked.

She was supposed to be the most beautiful woman in Jeriton, yet she was as pale as a ghost on the day she left to get married. She didn't look pretty at all.

Whatever. Becoming a bride was a happy occasion—she had to play the part right.

Ivory sat before her vanity, carefully fixing her hair and makeup. Then, she got a dagger and slipped it into her sleeve. If Simon dared to do anything to her that night, she would stab him in the heart.

They could just die together, for all she cared. There was nothing in this world that meant anything to her anymore.

After hiding the dagger, Ivory summoned Wilson. She said weakly, "Hold out your hand."

He frowned, seemingly not used to her being so weak. Still, he did as told. She lowered her head and bit his palm hard again. This would be the last time she did this, but it wouldn't be because he'd abandoned her. This time, she was the one leaving him behind.

She couldn't help thinking, "I hope your hand and heart don't hurt too badly when you learn the truth."

After biting Wilson, Ivory smiled and gave him her final command before her departure. "Close your eyes, sit here, and count to ten thousand. You can only leave once you're done."

"Why?" he asked.

"No reason. It's an order," she said. She often gave him these weird commands to test his obedience.

In the past, he'd been repulsed by these nonsensical instructions. However, looking at Ivory's pale face, he felt the slightest hint of guilt. And so, he didn't complain as he shut his eyes and started counting. "One, two, three…"

Ivory went downstairs with a box of things as he counted. It contained items that commemorated their time together. The ticket stubs from the first film they'd watched together, the first photo they'd taken together, and the paper rose Wilson had folded with newspaper…

There wasn't much, really. After all, Wilson didn't like her. The gifts he'd given her could be counted on one hand.

She hung them on the peach blossom tree in the garden. Then, she turned and left.

The pink blossoms on the tree danced with the breeze. Ivory had once fantasized about someone planting her rows and rows of peach blossom trees before marrying her.

Now, she had her rows of trees, but she no longer needed Wilson to marry her. She didn't want him anymore.

Ivory boarded a plane with the lion that she'd defanged and declawed. She didn't look back.

This was farewell, Wilson.